Lewin's Book
by Hypnotic Illusion
Summary: Game: Aria's Story. Lewin creates a novel, which lacks a deserving end. Over his frustration, he seeks comfort and distraction from his friends, who gather to discuss the story. WARNING: Major and minor spoilers.


**Lewin's Book**

 **An "Aria's Story" Story**

 **By:** Hypnotic Illusion

 **Beta Read Credits:** sleep walker38

 **Summary:** Game: Aria's Story. Lewin creates a novel, which lacks a deserving end. Over his frustration, he seeks comfort and distraction from his friends, who gather to discuss the story.

 **TRIGGER WARNING:** Major and minor spoilers

 **Rating:** K+

Lewin threw his pen at the wall and crumpled multiple pages of ink blotted paper, throwing them aimlessly towards the trash bin near his writing desk, already filled to the brim and overflowing onto the floor. It was something he desperately needed to get to cleaning up since at this point it was only an object of needless distraction, tormenting him with his numerous failed ideas and wasted time and serving as a cruel reminder that he wasn't done.

He then slumped over for a moment of respite, bumping his head against the desk while clutching his right hand, throbbing from the hours of work. He knew he was overworking himself with the story again, but he continued, despite his hand cramping up worse. This was all he was good at—writing—and he couldn't come up with an ending, no matter the painstaking amount of hard mental labor he put himself through. Countless pens and papers had been sacrificed now, giving Lewin more of an incentive to give up, but he couldn't find it in himself to do that yet. He didn't want to give up either. He did this because of the promise he'd made to himself and his friends, Clyde and Dahlia. How long ago he'd made it was something that slipped his mind.

He rose from his chair, making a grimace as his hand finally gave him a reason to take a break before he drove himself insane, and wandered around his room to find the bandages he kept for this exact situation. Looking under his bed, his eyes light up, and he grabbed for the wrappings with his uninjured hand. Once he'd wrapped his hand and wrist, he looked for the time.

He should be closing the library now, Lewin thought as he looked to the analog clock that read 9:30.

Clyde was his name. He was a librarian who'd inherited his father's building just to keep the family tradition going. Since he owned a library, he'd developed a passion for books; rather, he enjoyed picture books because they were his inspiration for his dream. He caught Lewin writing another story one afternoon, and he'd insisted that it had pictures accompany it. Lewin hesitated at the prospect, but after some consideration, agreed to the idea. Of course, when Dahlia heard of this, she clapped her hands together and suggested a narrator.

Dahlia was a great narrator, in her friends' opinions. She wasn't monotone, like everyone else who volunteered at Clyde's library; instead, she brought life to every story she read from, no matter how peculiar it was. Every genre was enhanced by her voice. Although she was more of a mystery fanatic, she put effort into every story she could get her hands on, making it as if the audience were in the book's world.

Lewin smiled. His friends… he wouldn't trade them for the world. They meant so much to him, which is why he'd placed them in his story as supporting characters. After walking to his desk to blow out the candle, he shuffled to his bed and slipped under the covers. Laying down, he rested for a time until an idea came to him. Perhaps he would talk with Clyde and Dahlia about it in the morning when he visited the library; it was a weekend, after all. With that in mind, he allowed his eyes to droop and eventually close enough to venture off into a dreamless sleep.

"Good morning, Lewin," Dahlia greeted the writer. "Clyde hasn't opened the library quite yet, but I'm sure it'll be open in no time."

Lewin nodded, pulling his white coat over him.

"What happened to your hand?"

"I got carried away with my writing again," Lewin rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a forced laugh. "It started cramping bad, so I covered it to make sure I wouldn't hurt it anymore."

She tsked after hearing this, humorously, like a mother scolding her child. "Lewin, you need to be more careful. You can't write if you destroy your hand. Then what'll you do?"

What would he do if he suddenly found himself unable to write? He cringed at the thought.

The doors of the library clicked and opened to reveal a smiling Clyde behind them.

"Morning, Clyde!" Dahlia smiled back.

"Hello, Dahlia," Clyde greeted her in return, then glanced at Lewin. "Lewin."

He nodded his hello and Clyde stood aside, gesturing the two to enter. Dahlia went first, followed by Lewin, and the trio walked through the entryway into a family of tables and chairs. Turning left, they went up a short set of stairs before stopping in front of the librarian's desk.

"So, Lewin. How's that book coming along?" Clyde asked with a burning curiosity. It was almost childlike, and Lewin loved that about Clyde. Dahlia turned to face Lewin as he answered, just as excited.

"I don't have an ending yet, but I hope it's alright if I put all of us in it as supporting characters."

Dahlia's eyes lit up. "Of course, Lewin! That's such a sweet thing to do, don't you think, Clyde?"

Clyde nodded, smiling gently. "I'm sure you can figure out an ending. It'll come to you."

"I want it to be a happy ending, but I just can't seem to make it come together how I want it to be."

A brief, yet comfortable, silence enveloped the three as they were thinking. Clyde used the opportunity to lean forward over the desk. This sparked the attention of the other two, with Dahlia raising her eyebrows.

"Who's the main character, Lewin?"

Lewin hesitated. There was something about Clyde's innocent but forceful tone that made chills go down his spine. "Um…" He looked away from the four pairs of eyes that were steadily on him, and he shrank away some. "I…"

"What's wrong?" Dahlia asked.

"It's… I... decided to make her the protagonist." He said with a longing tone to his voice, wiping his teary eyes.

It was quiet for a minute or two before Clyde broke the now awkward silence. "I'm sure she would have liked it, Lewin." He said as he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Lewin nodded, looking between the two, wanting to have seen her standing there with them all. "She would have loved the story. The adventures we would embark on… it would be the perfect action novel."

They nodded, as if to comfort Lewin, yet there were no real words they could say that hadn't already been said that could make him feel better.

"Do you have a title for it?" Dahlia wondered.

"Yeah," he paused as he gathered the unfinished work of literature from his bag, looking at it with a tender smile. "It's called…"

'Aria's Story.'

 **The End**


End file.
